


A Good Run

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poison, they're all softies when it comes to Han
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: The warehouse was being worked by enslaved kids. What was Han supposed to do? Not get caught and poisoned after freeing them, apparently. Yeah, that would've been better. Good thing Lando, Beckett, and Chewie are around to fix his messes. . . and him.





	A Good Run

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! I need to warn you of one thing: I live in a fantasy world where Beckett, Lando, Chewie, and Han all romp around the galaxy together after the Solo film. That obviously is an AU.

 

“Come on, kid.” Beckett’s voice is shaking. “Wake up, Han. Come on. Wake up.”

Why is Beckett’s voice shaking? Han tries to open his eyes. He needs to listen. Despite what Beckett thinks, listening to his voice one of Han’s favorite things to do, but his eyes won’t cooperate. They’re heavy, and he realizes that his whole body’s heavy and mostly numb. He swallows and tries to drag open his eyes again. A couple of blinks and they finally open enough for him to register Beckett’s scruffy face leaning over him. If he could feel his own face it might have Beckett’s hand on his cheek – it looks like that’s what he’s doing. Han wishes he could feel it.

“That’s it. That’s it. I’ve got you, kid, but you need to wake up. We need to move, okay? We can’t stay here.” Beckett swings his head and looks around before turning back to look at Han. Han tries to move and manages to feel his foot scrape against the concrete floor, and Beckett grins down at him. “That’s it. You need to move. Don’t make me drag the Wookie down here when he’s trying to get the ship off the ground.”

Han swallows and tries to figure out what happened. Where they are. His memory is dark and cloudy, like a warzone nightfall, and there’s nothing there. He’s lying on something cold and hard, and there’s a wall with a rusty door behind Beckett. The ceiling is dripping with a red, murky water and Han can feel the wet air like a cloying blanket. He’s very tired. He closes his eyes again and figures if he sleeps a little maybe he’ll feel like he can move for Beckett.

This time Beckett smacks him.

He drags his eyes open again and he wants to make Beckett happy, but seriously, he can’t feel anything except heavy and cold. Yeah, he’s cold. Freezing, really, and his body his shaking with it. “Can’t really move,” he mumbles.

“You have to,” Beckett growls, and pulls on Han’s arms to punctuate the command.

Han tries to get his legs under himself, and Becket throws his shoulder under Han’s arm, but the movement makes his head spin and nausea swirl in his belly. He stumbles and retches, throwing up a vile smelling mess. Beckett curses and pulls Han up again and begins to drag him through the rusty door and down a sulfur-smelling hallway. He’d throw up again if he had anything in his stomach.

“Lando?” Han manages to ask as Beckett pauses to check down the next hall.

Two shots from Beckett’s gun and then they’re moving again. “He’s coming. Making a grab for the vindust cabinet in the foreman’s office. If we can get it that’ll salvage this mess.”

Han has a moment where he thinks maybe the mess is his fault, but then the hallway tilts and his legs go out from under him again. Beckett curses and lets Han stumble to the floor because this is when the backup for the warehouse security decides to show. Han fumbles for a blaster, but his holster is empty and his arm decides not to work. He feels a shiver run down his spine, his cheek is pressed to the icy floor, and suddenly he can’t keep his eyes open again.

“I’ve got him,” he hears Becket growl, and then another voice, “You make sure those guards are gone and I’ve got him!”

 A rush of warmth runs through Han’s chest and he can finally open his eyes. “Lando? Hey.”

“Hey, baby. Come on,” Lando murmurs as he drags Han up to his shoulder. “Let’s go home, ok?”

Han really wants to make him happy. He nods and swallows thickly. “Trying. Something’s wrong.”

“I know. I’ve got an antidote to what they gave you. Found it in the foreman’s office.”

Lando fixes things. It’s one reason Han loves him so much.

Han can get them into messes like this one – tryin’ to help a warehouse full of enslaved kids sounded good at the time – and Lando can get them out, especially with Beckett and Chewie’s help. Han would be dead five times over without those three.

Lando’s the best fixer, though. Han finds a problem, and Lando finds a solution. Beckett and Chewie help implement the solution. All three yell at Han and then hug him.

 It’s a good system.

Han’s body just isn’t working this time, though. “Lando,” he mumbles into Lando’s purple cape. “I can’t.” Can’t what, Han’s not sure. Anything, probably. He feels the hallway, Lando’s body, the lights, the rotten eggs smell all of it, fading away.

Lando pulls Han entirely off the floor and over his shoulder. “No,” he growls. “We’re _going home_.”

Everything’s fuzzy after that. Han can feel the weight of his body, but he can’t keep his eyes open for more than a couple seconds at a time. He can _feel_ Chewie’s bellow in his chest when they get to the ship, but he can’t really hear it. Lando lays him on the med cot and presses something into his arm, but he’s too icy cold to really feel anything but the pressure.  Everything’s far away, everything’s heavy, and everything goes grey as Lando and Beckett both press their hands to his body. He can feel them yelling at him, but he can’t help falling away into the dark.

<><><><><><><><> 

“He’s an idiot. I don’t know why we keep him around.”

“You’re an idiot.  He was saving those kids.”

“Sentimental. It’s gonna get us all killed one day.”

“Eh. We get rich enough and we can find a secluded planet and hide him away on a tropical island where he can’t find any trouble.”

“You just say that ‘cause the sex is good.”

“Who told you that?”

“Chewie.”

Laughter. Subdued and quiet, but laughter. Han likes it. He swallows and takes a shaky breath. Tries to open his eyes.

“Hey,” both voices overlap. He feels Lando’s hand pushing through his hair.

Han sucks another breath in and manages to open his eyes.  Lando and Beckett are both there, Lando sitting next to him and Beckett standing behind him with his arms crossed.

“How’re you feeling, kid?” Beckett asks, grinning down at him.

Han blinks and looks over to Lando. “Tired. What the hell happened?”

Lando keeps running his hand through Han’s hair as he answers. “Poison. Slow-acting, thankfully, but they thought they could use you and your death as blackmail. Didn’t work.” He closes his mouth hard and looks away for a moment and takes his own shaky breath before he meets Han’s eyes again.  “The kids are safe. We got the vindust after all. You’re going to be okay in a day or two, when the med does its job.”

Beckett says, “I’m goin’ to check on Chewie. He’s been crankier than a pregnant bantha since you been sick.” He pauses. “You gave us a scare, kid. Get some rest. Lando, lay off him till he’s better.”

“Can I lay next to him?” Lando asks with a smile.           

Beckett rolls his eyes and leaves with a rude gesture.

Han tries to scoot over, but apparently the poison has a weak-as-a-kitten side effect, so he glares down at his annoying body.

“It’ll get easier in a day or two. Here,” Lando says, and helps Han move. Then he unbuttons his cape and throws it across a chair near the bed and stretches out next to Han. His body is warm, and Han manages to drape himself against Lando with a contented sigh.

“Gonna sleep again,” he mumbles into Lando’s chest, and falls asleep before his next breath.

When he wakes, Lando’s gone and Chewie is sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep.

“Hey, pal,” he manages, but he blinks ‘cause his mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. Chewie produces a glass from the table near the bed. Han drinks carefully and catalogues his body. Now it feels bruised, like he got hit with a landspeeder, and he groans.

Chewie answers and rubs Han’s head, ruffling his already very messy hair.

“Well, poison is the _worst_ then,” Han says, and he’d totally roll over and go back to sleep except his body hurts too damned much.

Chewie very seriously agrees, and then holds some sort of nutrition shake to Han’s lips. Han drinks as Chewie tells him about the vindust they scored and starts to list off the repairs to the Falcon they’ll be able to pull off with it. It will be nice to get a working gun turret again. Han falls asleep in the middle of the list.

When he wakes again, it’s Beckett who’s sitting there. He’s reading a vidscreen and has his ridiculous striped socks up on the edge of Han’s bed.

“Did Chewie slip me a painkiller?” Han asks with sandpaper throat.

Beckett hands him a glass of water. Good. Han’s hands are working better now. He drinks and then hands it back.

“Yeah, he said you shouldn’t have to suffer through the aftereffects. I voted for one of the painkillers that just makes you loopy, but he and Lando insisted on knocking you out.” Beckett shrugs. “Less fun for us.”

“You make your own fun,” Han says, parroting a favorite saying of Beckett’s.

“Yeah, well, clearly not in this case. Lando did a scan earlier, though. Looks like the poison’s about worn off. It ‘bout killed you. Thought Lando and Chewie were gonna burn the whole town to the ground over it.”

“What?”

Beckett shrugs. “Yeah, well, we got you back to the ship and got the antidote in you, but you were in bad shape. Was touch and go for a few hours.”

Beckett’s eyes shutter a bit at the memory, Han would swear. Huh.

“I turned around and they were both gone, and the warehouse was up in flames. You were hallucinatin’ or something and I didn’t want to deal with it, so I called Lando on the comms. Swear that’s the only reason they came back and left their revenge at the warehouse.”

Han can hear the lies. He can hear them and he can see them on Beckett’s face, but he’s not lying about Lando and Chewie. Han had seen the char marks on one of Lando’s favorite purple capes while he was in and out of it.

“You’re an old softie,” he says to Beckett.

Beckett glares. “And you’re an idiot. Improvise yourself to death one of these days. Those kids would’ve been fine.”

Han has to close his eyes against the image of whips and brands that comes flooding back from long before he ever met Beckett or Lando or Chewie. He touches a scar on his arm. “No, they wouldn’t have. I had to get them out of there.”

After a long stare, Beckett nods. “Yeah. Well. One of these days you’re gonna get killed, and I’m gonna get this ship because Lando and Chewie are gonna get themselves killed for whatever they do in revenge. Works out for me either way.”

They stay silent for a moment before Lando bursts into the room. “My turn! Out, Beckett. He’s feeling better, I can tell from your stony silence.”

Han grins and Beckett turns on his heel and leaves without a word.

Lando watches him leave and cocks his head at Han. “You guys okay?” he asks as he flips his cape onto the chair and sits down to tug his boots off.

Han tests his strength by rubbing Lando’s back and untucking his shirt to get at the smooth, warm skin underneath. “Yeah. Beckett’s being sentimental. He’ll get over it.”

Lando leans over and presses a kiss to Han’s temple, and when Han closes his eyes with a sigh, he presses another kiss to Han’s lips. “You’re okay, though, right?” Lando whispers.

Han knows he’s better but not healed because Lando’s breathy and concerned voice turns Han on like an engine on good days. Today it just sends a shiver of anticipation down his spine, a shiver that gets quickly snuffed out thanks to the aches and exhaustion. “Still tired and achy,” he says.

 Lando leans back and brushes hair from Han’s face. “Okay,” he says. “So let’s sleep. Chewie and Beckett have the ship handled, and I haven’t really slept in days because you scared the shit out of me this time, cowboy.”

Han blinks at the sharpness in Lando’s voice. He sits up a little. “I’m not sorry,” he says. “Those kids. . .“  He trails off. He shouldn’t have to explain that saving kids was the right thing to do. Not to Lando who loves his mother and had a halfway decent childhood despite his old man.

Lando puts a hand to Han’s cheek. “Yeah. I know. But you scared me, and I don’t want to lose you, too. I’m tired of it. I want something good to last, you know?”

Han does know. Getting something good and losing it seems to be the story of his life so far. But Chewie and Beckett changed that, and then Lando did, too. “We’re on a good run, huh?” he says, and relaxes back against the pillows.

 Lando settles himself down next to Han, and throws his arm protectively over Han’s chest. “Yeah. Let’s not mess with the odds for a while now, got it?” His words are muffled, tired.

Now that Han’s feeling a bit better, he strokes Lando’s hair until his breathing even out and Han is sure Lando’s asleep.

“Got it, pal. I like our odds, too,” he says, and closes his eyes to sleep.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, thanks for reading this! Also also, I am not up on my Star Wars lingo. Please note that I'm aware of this. Doing my best, here. Finally, if you like tumblr, you can find me and my Solo + Avengers focused (well, loosely focused. Very loosely.) tumblr: westgateoh
> 
> Thanks again for stopping by. I hope the universe is treating you well these days.


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